Good witch, bad witch

Sometimes the Bad Witch gets hold of me. That cackling, pointy, black dressed one with green skin and evil flying monkey thoughts. They enter my head and get trapped like angry crows in a cage, stuck and vengeful. While the Wicked Witch whispers “Watch out! Terrible things are apt to happen at any minute. Your worst fears are all founded in reality – of course you’re afraid! You must always be on guard lest your life gets caught in a rogue tornado and heads over the horizon and straight to hell! And, guess what my little pretty, you’re powerless!”

Believe me, I’ve met the Bad Witch face to face. And she looks a lot like me.

I’m appalled by my own thick-headed insistence on focusing on the “problems” in my life. There’s so much more all around me. Why can’t I remember to look up and see what’s right in front of me? Just here, under my long green nose.

Every now and then there’s a crack in my mind’s self protective armor, and I really see how wonderful life really is. The lid lifts off the shoe box of my life and the light shines in. It happens at the most random and unpredictable moments. And when it does, I feel just like Dorothy when the Good Witch told her she’d had the magic ruby slippers all along.

Once, during a blessedly smooth patch in my periodically tumultuous life, I was having lunch with my cousin. Ever my faithful and supportive friend, he said with a look of concern, “So how are you?” I hesitated. Instead of seeing the truth of my current well-being and acknowledging it, I caught myself scanning for trouble. Looking for something to worry or complain about. What habit of negativity could account for this perversity? Did I actually WANT to be anxious? Was I afraid that if I let my guard down and admitted even momentary ease, I’d be zapped? Run down in my tracks by a speeding train of misfortune?

At least I had a good look at it. This habit of negativity. This comfort zone of affliction. I actually watched as those evil monkeys searched for a way in, and – wonder of wonders – discovered that seeing them stopped them cold. When I looked ‘em in the eye, their wings folded and they fell to the ground like so many dead flies. Now how’s that for magic?

I checked my feet for ruby slippers.

Just the other day, I was walking from the barn to the main house, head down, intent on my chores, my to do list, my concerns about money, decisions about my house in Richmond. I felt a cool breeze. I smelled the breath of new green things, apple blossoms and warm sun, and looked up. Eden. Or Emerald Oz at least. Russ’s carefully tended grass lay green and gleaming, rolling in every direction. From fern wooded forest, to tumbled stone walls lichened and purpled in the afternoon light. A broad blue Maine sky marbled with pink tinged clouds low and lit by the soon setting sun. It literally stopped me in my tracks. My eyes opened. My heart opened. My world opened. Tight and narrow moved to wide and open. Anxiety moved to ease, and Glenda the Good Witch smiled her sweet smile, waved her magic wand, and pronounced that I was home.

And she too looked just like me. Go figure.

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